An Eclectic Journal of Opinion, History, Poetry and General Bloviating

Saturday, February 9, 2013

I Can’t Believe it Either—Poetry by Request

Reading at an earlier event at church.

I read some
poetry last night at the Haystack’s Coffee House Open
Mic and Jam Night in the Unitarian Universalist Congregation in McHenry, in between set of actual
musical entertainment.Gave everyone an
opportunity to go to the bathroom, I guess.

Astonishingly, I have received
a request to post the poems that I read.Having nothing better prepared for today’s blog entry, I am glad to
oblige.Each of the following have been
posted on this blog separately at least once before.

Knoxville

7/27/2008

10:26
A.M

They are
about to sing about Tomorrow,

as fresh and delicate as impatiens
in the dew,

when Yesterday, desperate and
degraded

bursts through the doors

barking despair and death

from the business end of a sawed of
shotgun.

Tomorrow
will have to wait,

Yesterday—grievances and
resentments,

a life full of missed what-ifs

and
could-have-beens,

of blame
firmly fixed on Them,

the very
Them despised by

all the
herald angel of perfect virtue—

has
something to say.

Yesterday
gives way to Now,

the eternal, inescapable Now,

flowing from muzzle flash

to shattered flesh,

the Now when things happen,

not the reflections of Yesterday

or the shadows of Tomorrow,

the Now that always Is.

Now unites
them,

victims and perpetrator,

the innocent and the guilty,

the crimson Now.

Tomorrow
there will be villain and martyrs,

Tomorrow always know about
Yesterday,

will tell you all about it in
certain detail.

And yet
Tomorrow those dewy impatiens

will sing at
last—

The sun will come out Tomorrow,

bet
your bottom dollar on tomorrow

come
what may…

How wise
those little Flowers

To reunite us all in Sunshine.

Merlin
Said

Love is the only magic—

It enriches the giver

as it nourishes
the object.

It serves the instant

and washes over
the ages.

It is as particular as the moon

and as universal
as the heavens.

If returned it is multiplied

yet spurned it is
not diminished.

It is as lusty as the rutting stag

but as chaste as
the unicorn’s pillow.

It comes alike to the king on his throne

and the cut purse
in the market.

If you would have magic,

place faith in
love or nothing.

The Vestryman

Ash
Wednesday/Washington’s Birthday 2012

The Vestryman performing the duty
expected of the local Squire

attended
chapel when absolutely necessary

and
when no good excuse like fighting an Empire

or
Fathering a Country was handy.

He sat bolt upright on a rigid pew

contemplated
the charms of Lady Fairfax

or
later dental misery.

When
came the Altar Call, he would stand up,

turn
on his heel, and march straight out

as
if a legion was at his back.

No
filthy priestly thumb ever grimed

that
noble brow.

How a Poem Came to Be

An inauspicious lump of gravel

tossed in
the tumbler,

turned,
turned,

until gleaming
smooth,

handsome
moss agate

admired and
mounted

on a new bolo tie slide.

A thing of pride and beauty.

But how much more did it yearn

to be a
geode

struck once
just so,

split to
reveal

the
perfect,

dazzling
crystal.

It Came to Him in a Dream

August 14, 2011

“It came to him in a dream!”

The urgent, rumbling voice intones,

architectural letters scroll the screen—

Beckon the Night.

This gift of Morpheus

sticking, as almost nothing ever does

when brought bolt upright

by an insistent alarm.

I’ll need a double shot

of Dashiell Hammett for this,

pulled from the second desk draw

next to the snub nose

poured into a greasy tumbler.

And a dame, gotta have a dame,

ash blonde and weeping

wreathed in Herbert Tareyton garlands.

A snap brim hat and trench coat,

’41 Ford Coupe headlights

to glimmer on wet pavement,

a bluesy cornet riff.

What else ya’ gonna do with

Beckonthe Night?

Write a goddam fairy tale?

There you have
them, like it or not.By the way the first
two poems were included in my 2004 Skinner
House collection We Build Temples in the Heart.The second two are among a bunch of
strays lonesome for a new publisher, hint, hint.